Aachen Du Bellay. (№ 262341)

When I spoil the blood stubborn creditor
I just lay down verses and rabies disappeared.
When I hear the noble language of the beggar,
Pleasure to me, and spout bile, poems to fight back.
When the evil servant is lying to me and saying nonsense
Once again, I write poetry and anger suddenly became;
When all my soul is tired
I draw in the poetry and vigor and enthusiasm.
Poems I can put praise freedom,
Poems laziness driven in spite of my nature,
Verses entrust all that harbored in the soul.